


The Spaces In-Between

by entanglednow



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Car Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-02
Updated: 2010-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-14 17:36:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/151757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entanglednow/pseuds/entanglednow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Gabriel always has good ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Spaces In-Between

  
Sam's in the back of the car, rifling through the bag he left there. Because he remembers leaving his new book somewhere here, or at least this is the last place he remembers having it. He's pretty sure Dean didn't steal it and he's already checked the floor, so the book didn't fall out when he threw it there, so where the hell -

"Hey, Sam."

Sam smashes his head on the roof so hard the whole car shakes.

"Jesus, Gabriel, have you been taking lessons from Cas or something?"

Gabriel's on the other side of the car, boots balanced against the window in a way that should be impossible. He's flipping through - the book Sam's been looking for.

"Hey, I was looking for that."

"I know," Gabriel says smoothly and then tosses it into the front seat, ignoring Sam's brief flail to catch it. Or maybe using it as a distraction, because the next thing Sam knows he has an angel dragging his head down, sharp fingers tangled up too tightly in his hair to resist.

Not that he does resist, not very hard.

Until Gabriel shoves him against the leather of the seat and starts kissing him like he means it.

"Gabriel." Sam folds his hands round Gabriel's waist. But the angel's almost impossible hard to push away unless he actually lets him. Or thinks Sam's serious about wanting to. "Gabriel, you realise Dean is just inside, that he could come out any time."

Gabriel laughs, one messy noise of amusement.

"Sam Winchester, wanting your brother to watch is kinky even for _me._ "

Sam scowls at him, then makes a noise of protest and affront when Gabriel hauls him in by his shirt again, laughing against his mouth until Sam opens, obediently.

"Gabriel -"

"Castiel has your brother distracted, trust me."

Sam leans away, but only ends up with Gabriel's teeth in his throat for his trouble which is - oh God - that's almost worse.

"Distracted?"

"Distracted," Gabriel drawls out against his skin. "Don't pretend Dean hasn't just been itching to get his dirty mortal hands on my pretty little brother."

"Jesus, are they -"

Gabriel grunts and then kisses him before he can say anything else. Sliding his way into his lap and Sam's learned that there aren't a lot of arguments that work in that situation.

"Gabriel."

"What did I tell you about making you have fun even if I had to pull you kicking and screaming," the angel hisses against his mouth.

"I already told you that's a really bad way to try and have a relationship," Sam points out.

"Special privileges," Gabriel decides and then he's somehow closer and Sam's knee is jammed against the door and there isn't enough room, even when he hauls Gabriel in and tries to straighten his other leg out.

"I don't think this counts as good behaviour," Sam says carefully and Gabriel laughs again like it's a strange and alien concept that he has no time for. His fingers are working at Sam's shirt buttons in a way that seems to barely move the material at all. But he somehow ends up with Gabriel's warm hands against his bare stomach anyway.

"Your brother will never find out what I plan to do in the back of his car so I can feel smug about it for all eternity."

Sam has a comment on that but Gabriel doesn't let him go, too busy leaving his mouth red and wet and laughing against the rough edge of his jaw.

"Do I get a say in this?" Sam complains, mostly breath.

He feels the damp exhale of amusement. The way leather squeaks sharply when Gabriel very carefully leans back and he's all eyes and teeth in the dark.

"Would you like to fuck me in the back of your brother's car?"

Sam exhales roughly

"That's unfair." His voice doesn't sound anything like himself.

Gabriel rocks into him, one slow movement that makes him catch his breath.

"It's a sensible question. Yes or no, Sam?"

"Fuck," Sam says quietly.

Gabriel seems to understand the many variations of the word 'fuck.' One of which is so close to 'yes' that it apparently makes no difference, because he's pushing the shirt back and working at the tight folded edge of Sam's jeans. Before he makes an irritated noise and apparently decides he's dealt with as many buttons as his angelic patience can cope with. Sam's clothes go from being half off him to being on the floor with no coherent memory of any in-between.

He inhales at the sudden wet press of leather and the softer, warmer press of Gabriel, who's just as naked under his hands now, smoother and greedier and somehow more intense, pushing close and then closer.

"Gabriel," Sam tries, one last time.

But everything slides together in a way that's demanding and impatient and there's no way he can't take an interest in that. There's a quick-hard thump of arousal that settles low and then drags out and leaves him gasping and dragging Gabriel in all the way. Both hard against each other, crushed there in brief, quick flexes of muscle that turn every kiss messy and impatient.

Sam's about to point out that this would be a fuck of a lot easier the other way round. Which pretty much kills any protests he thought he was going to keep making. But Gabriel's mouth is open and his bare thighs are warm where they fold under his hands. He's all devious tongue and fingers and enthusiasm and turning him around doesn't seem quite so important any more. Not with him so close. Breathing encouragement and filthy promises into Sam's mouth. Always so many promises and Gabriel always keeps every single one of them.

Gabriel draws back, shoves Sam into the seat back and reaches down between them. His hand is warm and slippery - somehow, from somewhere - and it's good enough to make Sam inhale and then hold it, groaning at that tight slide of fingers.

God, they're actually going to do this.

Gabriel murmurs agreement like he hears the thought, digs his knee into the leather of the seat back and shifts up, face briefly pressed into the curve of Sam's neck.

He holds him, and then presses down onto him, one sliding push of heat and tightness that leaves Sam gasping, fingers curled round Gabriel's thighs. He's leaving marks that won't stay, don't ever stay, while Gabriel slides all the way down on one shuddering great breath, loud and greedy in the enclosed space.

Sam makes a quick, hard noise that sounds like it's forcibly dragged out of him, hips pressing up as far as there's room for, trying to get him in deeper.

It's awkward and cramped, Gabriel's knees are shoved into his skin, pressing sharp bruises there every time he moves, every time he pushes down. But it's good, so very good the way they're crushed together so tightly that Sam can feel every burning hot inch of him. The way he's moving in tiny fractional little shifts that are maddening and delicious.

Sam's hand shoves into his hair and tightens, every breath slicing out of him like it hurts. There isn't enough room to catch Gabriel's waist and push up into him. It's just the too-good but not-enough grind and shove of skin, leather making soft obscene noises every time he moves.

"Fuck," Sam says quietly into Gabriel's throat and he feels the murmur of agreement there, feels sharp, strong fingers dig into his shoulders and press him back. They leave him pushed into the seat and Gabriel pins him there and kisses him, demands with aggressive open mouthed roughness that Sam do something.

He digs his fingers in, digs them into the soft skin of Gabriel's back and the warmth of his waist and the smooth stretched muscle of both his thighs. Sam's aching and greedy, helpless against the urgent little pushes of his hips that seem to be under the impression he's not trying hard enough and Jesus, _Jesus._

He tears his mouth away.

"Gabriel," he growls fiercely and Gabriel laughs, one great shove of amusement which Sam can feel - oh Jesus - he can feel everywhere. He catches the curves of Gabriel's shoulders in the darkness, tries desperately to find something to brace against, something to push Gabriel into so he can get some sort of rhythm going. But his own body is too tall, there's too damn much of him and Gabriel is too fluid, too hard to catch, too hard to get to stay still and Sam is fucking drunk with how much he wants it.

The car smells like warm leather and sweat, everything too loud and too close, windows shady and slick-wet with condensation.

One push, one hard push and he's going to be lost and Sam thinks maybe it's the frustrated breathless searching for it that's stealing all the air in his chest and Gabriel is not helping. Gabriel is all vibration and growl and tight-hard presses of hips and teeth and wet open mouth. No angel should ever be like this, this vicious tease of want and strength that's breaking him into pieces in the dark.

Sam wants to fuck him, wants to really fuck him and there's a whine building in his throat and he's pretty sure he's going to have bruises on his arms from where Gabriel is pressing his fingers in while Sam catches, desperately at his skin.

And then Gabriel moves like liquid, folds in the confined space and slides up, then sinks down and Sam makes a soft punched-out noise of desperate greedy want.

"Fuck, yes."

Gabriel takes pity on him, or maybe he just needs it as much as him. He pushes at Sam's knee, just a little, until his foot shifts and catches the bottom of the driver's seat and then he lifts up, just enough to give Sam what he wants.

Sam winds an arm round his waist and shoves, one solid push that's so fucking good he can't stop, has to spread his other hand on Gabriel's back and hold him just there, just like that while the angels' teeth dig into the skin of his neck and his fingers press into Sam's arms hard enough to hurt. It's brief and hot and perfect.

When he comes it's hard and desperate, it leaves him shaking and groaning out something which he realises dizzily is Gabriel's name. The angel breathes something sharp and surprised into his shoulder, pushing down into him until Sam has no breath left, and then Gabriel comes against his skin in one long shiver of sensation.

The leather makes a slick protesting sound when Sam puts a hand there and tries desperately to ground himself. He feels exhausted, hollowed out and stupidly sensitive and Gabriel is heavy and just a little too hot. But Sam can't for the life of him unwind his arm from around the Archangel's waist.

He makes an almost worshipful sound of gratitude when Gabriel carefully pushes his hair out of his face.

"I always have good ideas," Gabriel says slowly, into the skin of his neck.

Sam groans agreement.

  



End file.
